


Piano Man

by St_Minority



Category: Trigun
Genre: Alcohol, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-01 09:26:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20812826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/St_Minority/pseuds/St_Minority
Summary: During a friendly drinking game, Vash shows off a hidden talent, making his friends wonder if there's anything he can't do.





	Piano Man

**Author's Note:**

> Simple one-shot I thought of when driving home from work listening to "Piano Bar II" from one of the Cowboy Bebop soundtracks. Also callback to the movie Shine, if anyone's seen that. :) And I just realized the manga has Millie's name with "ie" and everywhere else it's spelled with a "y"! Shaking my smh...

****  
The saloon was crowded and rowdy as ever, even with it being almost midnight. A small band consisting of a stand-up bass player, guitarist, and pianist kept the energy flowing with upbeat songs, though occasionally, they slowed the tempo down just a tad to account for couples wanting to dance a bit more intimately with one another and allow the others a break before hitting the floor again.

Off to the side opposite the main bar, Vash and Wolfwood were engaged in a drinking game with serious stakes: the loser was responsible for paying the winner's tab at the end of the night. Millie had desperately wanted to join the fun, and despite the two men voicing their willingness to let her participate, both were glad when Meryl put her foot down and, in so many words – as was Meryl's fashion – advised her not to; the Humanoid Typhoon and wandering priest were well aware of the big woman's capability to drink each of them under the table if she put her mind to it. Regardless of her not being officially entered into the competition, she continued keeping pace with them rather well; while Meryl proceeded to sip away at her third, the others were on to round seven.

"I propose we get shots this time," Wolfwood commented, his words a bit slurred. "I'm tired of beer."  
Vash stared at him blankly, swayed from side to side in his chair, and when he spoke, he sounded like his partner. "What did you have in mind, hm?"  
"Good ol' fashion tequila!"  
"I'm in."  
Meryl rolled her eyes just as Millie squealed, "Ooo! Me too! I'll go get a bottle!"

Not even twenty minutes later, Wolfwood and Vash had consumed three shots, Millie one and a half. All three of their heads were face-down on the table and receiving a disapproving look from Meryl.

"Don't expect me to carry you all back to the inn tonight," she said, her tone huffy. "What a stupid thing to do for a bet!"  
"Aw, lighten up, Meryl," Vash chided happily, lifting his head just enough to flash her a smile. "Loosen up, have some fun! Go dance!"  
Millie sat up straight at that suggestion. "Yeah! Let's dance!"

Just as she went to grab Wolfwood's arm, the music stopped.

"Awww," she pouted.

There was too much commotion for his friends to hear it, but Vash did when the guitarist mentioned to some of the patrons that the pianist was turning in for the night and they didn't want to continue without the primary instrument. Without a word, the outlaw stood, wobbled in place for a few seconds, and began a zig-zag, stumbling path towards the small stage.

"Where the hell is he going?" Wolfwood mumbled, raising his head to watch the man struggling to walk normally.

Nearly falling forward as he stepped up onto the platform, the two remaining musicians gazed at Vash in profound confusion and slight concern.

"Hi there!" the outlaw greeted cheerily. "I understand you could use another member for the night."  
The two glanced at one another, both silently agreeing it wasn't a good idea based on how intoxicated this stranger was, and one finally said, "Well, uh, I think you may have had too many drinks, mister."  
Vash waved a hand dismissively and let out a small giggle. "No! No-no, I'm quite fine. Lemme give it a go."

Not waiting for permission, he sat down at the upright piano, situated the bench just right and brushed back his coattails with a flourish to hang off the edge behind him, and took a moment to merely stare at the keys laid out before him. By now, people had taken notice of the odd patron who thought he could play. Some felt embarrassed for him, while others snickered, "This ought to be good."

"Uh, let's see," Vash muttered to himself. He pressed a few keys, getting a feel for the instrument, and several people laughed at him from assuming he had no idea what he was doing. All eyes were on him at this point, including his group of friends who also believed he was about to sincerely make a fool of himself.

"What do you call that little ditty?" someone shouted, inciting another round of laughter.  
"Don't keep us waiting, maestro!" another chimed in.

Vash waved and grinned, his cheeks flushed, but not from impending embarrassment. The alcohol was causing the room to spin around him, his limbs felt weighted as if he was underwater, yet he managed to bring both of his hands to rest against the keys. Closing his eyes, he outlined a tune in his mind. When he got it, he took a deep breath, smiled, opened his eyes, and made the piano breathe life into the improvised composition.

The instant his fingers attacked the instrument, the room was filled with stunned silence. He tore into a piece that was a mix of jazz and blues, with the fingers of his right hand running up and down in dazzling scales here and there, while his left kept pace by switching between strong, solid chords and an arpeggiated bass line. There were trills, octave leaps, and moments when both hands shared the same melody or similar power chords; the instrument sang beautifully under the direction of its tamer. Despite there not being any noise other than the piano, he blocked everything out around him and submerged himself in his own music world where the only thing that existed were the imaginary notes and the instrument. He couldn't see anything other than the black and white row before him, couldn't hear anything except the music, couldn't feel anything besides the keys under his fingers and the pounding of his heart as excitement coursed through him. It'd been awhile since he'd last gotten a chance to play, and he was delighted to be doing so now. It was like meeting up with an old friend.

After four minutes, he brought the song to a close, letting his hands linger in place on the keys for a moment even after the tone ran out before turning to face the eruption that suddenly overwhelmed the space. Everyone was cheering wildly and shouting for more, except for Meryl, Millie, and Wolfwood, who each had a look of sheer astonishment and disbelief. Vash grinned and this time, the blush to his cheeks was from mild embarrassment in response to the uproarious attention.

"That was incredible!" the bassist praised enthusiastically.  
Vash rubbed the back of his neck almost nervously and replied, "Thanks. I was worried maybe I'd forgotten."  
"Where'd you learn to do that?"  
"Oh….you know…."  
"Well at any rate, we'll follow your lead if you're up for it. We've got another hour or so before they close."  
"Sure! I'd love to."

It was like everyone received a jolt of energy as the trio of instruments filled the saloon once again with song, and people rushed forward to take a spot on the floor. Snapping out of her stupor, Millie latched onto Wolfwood's arm and commanded gleefully, "Come on, Mr. Priest! Let's dance!"

There wasn't a chance to object, and as he was pulled away from the table, he grabbed an unsuspecting Meryl by the hand, who let out a startled "Wah!" and stumbled behind the other two.

Keeping up with one partner was challenging enough when drunk; luckily for Wolfwood, neither woman seemed too interested in actually following along to the beat. Just as Vash improvised songs on the fly, so did the insurance girls with their styles of dancing. The priest wanted to laugh more than anything at them, though he knew it wouldn't be nice, and he was a gentleman, after all. While he did his best to engage with them, he didn't miss that the outlaw was being provided with free drinks in between each piece. Since being polite was in his nature, and declining gifted alcohol would be absurd, Vash accepted and downed each one, still managing to remain upright and functioning instead of passing out onto the keys like his competitor almost believed he would.

_Damn it. If I don't declare him the winner after all this, _Wolfwood thought to himself, grinning amusedly at his impending defeat. He wasn't sure which to be more impressed with at this point: the fact that Vash could play like a virtuoso, the fact that he had consumed so many alcoholic beverages, or the fact that he could do the latter and still perform exceptionally well.

_He never fails to amaze me. I'm sure these girls feel the same way. What other secrets are you hiding, Vash the Stampede?_

The music and dancing continued until two in the morning when the bar finally closed. As the crowd began filtering out the door, they eagerly expressed their compliments to the band and lauded the staggering talent of the guest pianist, with some insisting that he return the next night to dazzle them all again. Vash merely smiled and thanked them for their kindness, neither confirming nor denying if he'd return for a future performance.

"Don't know how you do it, Spikey," Wolfwood remarked, approaching the outlaw, who was clearly having difficulty standing on his own. He guided Vash's arm across his shoulders and put his own around the gunman's waist to keep him steady and help him walk. "You're certainly full of surprises."  
Vash giggled, his face flushed, legs stumbling awkwardly like a newborn fawn and words heavily slurred when he replied, "Life's better with a lil' excitement, eh Wolfy?!"  
"Where'd you learn to play like that?"  
"When you've been around as long as I have, you learn things."  
Wolfwood rolled his eyes at the lame explanation. "Let's get you to bed."  
Emitting a sharp and loud gasp, which startled the priest, Vash pushed away slightly and exclaimed, "Who won?! Just remembered gotta pay."  
"Damn it, Spikey! Don't scare me like that!"  
Donning a sudden serious look, the outlaw declared, "Being dishonest _is_ a scary thing."  
"Who's being dishonest?"  
"We are if we don't pay!"  
"Easy now, Mr. Righteous. I took care of it."  
Vash immediately lit up, excited. "Does that mean….?!"  
Wolfwood sighed and said blandly, "Yes, Spikey. You won."

Once they were outside and found Meryl and Millie, Wolfwood posed the question, "Is there anything you can't do?"  
Vash touched his index finger to his lips as he sincerely contemplated his answer.  
Meryl shook her head and muttered, "Oh good lord."  
"You were amazing, Mr. Vash!" Millie chimed in. "We were all so impressed, yes we were. Everyone thought you were just going to embarrass yourself up there, but you showed them!"  
Vash chuckled. "Thanks, Millie."  
"Even Meryl and Mr. Priest thought you were crazy, but I knew you weren't!"  
"Millie!" Meryl cried indignantly.  
"I-"

Demonstrating an unlikely amount of dexterity, Vash neglected the end of his sentence to abruptly dart toward the nearest alleyway and vomit. As the three of them listened to him wretch numerous times, Wolfwood commented smugly, "Guess we found it."  
"Found what?" Millie asked innocently.  
"Something he can't do: hold his liquor."


End file.
